Privacy
by QuidnamInferorum
Summary: The students of Hogwarts have to REALLY look for someplace private. Written for Supernatural Smut Appreciation Day 2017 on tumblr and inspired by many conversations with saxxxology (from tumblr).


One of the eternal struggles of the average Hogwarts students was the total lack of privacy. They were rarely, if ever, alone. They shared a bedroom, a bathroom, classes, hallways, meals, books, quills, trips off campus—everything.

And, sometimes, that was amazing.

Other times, it was the worst thing ever.

This was one of those times.

Y/N and Dean had been going out since the beginning of the year. She had asked him out after her friend, Marcy, had made a bet with her: if Marcy got at least an Exceeds Expectations on her Potions O.W.L., Y/N had to ask out the boy she'd been in love with since third year.

Y/N had accepted, knowing that Marcy was terrible with potions, instead focusing on Herbology. Never in any universe did she think that Marcy would do so well, and Y/N had already been planning how best to make Marcy miserable.

So, when Marcy had run into the Hufflepuff common room, waving her grades and shouting "BOOM, BITCH!", Y/N was more than a little horrified.

She couldn't imagine anything worse than asking out the handsome Gryffindor.

Dean Winchester was, of course, one of the more well-known of his house. As much as Marcy and Y/N made fun of the house for being a bunch of arrogant, over-compensatory dickbags, Dean had always been kind. His ego shone through most of the time times but, after speaking with him, he was sweet and romantic and wanted nothing more than to help people. Now sixth years, he was training to become an auror and was even a Beater on his House's quidditch team.

Y/N, on the other hand, was quieter. If not for the yellow robes, most would mistake her for a Ravenclaw, often finding her hidden away in the library or her House's common room, reading, writing, and speaking with her few close friends.

So, on the train to Hogwarts the first day of their sixth year, Y/N walked up to Dean and asked if she could speak to him in private. His friends had shoved him playfully, Benny (a fellow Gryffindor) was especially boisterous. She recognized Castiel from the Hufflepuff common room and Dean's younger brother, Sam, from Marcy's near-constant ogling.

Dean had walked with Y/N back to her train compartment (which Marcy had made sure was vacated). Once inside, Y/N took a deep breath, turned to face him, and said, quite simply, "I really like you, Dean, and I was wondering if you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

Dean's hunter green eyes, the same shade of green that had become her favorite color, widened. He began switching between smiling cockily and stuttering like a boy in front of his crush.

Her heart sank, and she immediately began backpedaling. "I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Never mind—"

"No, I," he gulped. Then he smiled. "That sounds awesome, actually."

"Wha—really?" Her surprise couldn't have been contained, even if she had tried.

His ears tinged pink and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly? I've been trying to get Cas to introduce us since last year."

"O-Oh…" she cleverly answered. "I…wow."

His embarrassed smirk lost all his awkwardness, and he crossed the suddenly small train carriage to take her hand in his.

Thus began their courtship.

They were quickly sickening to those around them, constantly touching, whether it be holding hands or making out in a corner of the library.

Then, of course, it got worse.

Two seventeen year olds, spending ninety percent of their time together, all whilst being madly in love—it was only to be expected.

However, there was rarely a moment of privacy for the two. Sometimes there was an empty classroom, dormitory, or bathroom available for a quickie, but both wanted something more.

They had stayed back at the castle for this particular Hogsmeade trip, exploring the castle together, looking for hidden nooks and crannies.

Their fingers entwined between them, Y/N dramatically swung their hands together, making Dean chuckle. "Having fun there, Y/L/N?"

"Oodles," she grinned.

He yanked her close, pulling her into a kiss.

She pulled away the moment his tongue rolled across the seam of her lips. She had to physically stop herself from kissing that pout away. "Dean, we can't do that in a hallway."

He groaned. "C'mon, there's gotta be some place private somewhere round here."

She sighed. "I hate having to sneak around like this."

"I know, baby, I do too, but unless you know a spell to make a hotel room magically appear, then sneaking is what we have to do."

She wrapped her other hand around the arm that was connected to hers, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. "But wouldn't it be nice to take our time? It's always so…so 'wham bam thank you ma'am.'"

He squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry."

She smiled up at him."'s not your fault. Just one of the problems with boarding school."

"Well," he pulled her hand from his just to wrap it around her shoulders. "Over the summer, I'm gonna take you to the nicest hotel ever."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "One of those fancy ones with silk sheets and room service and fluffy bathrobes. And those'll be all we wear for a week."

She hummed, her eyes closing in contentment. "That sounds wonderful…"

The startling sound of shifting stone broke the silence.

Dean immediately shoved Y/N behind him, ready to defend her, and pulled out his wand. She pulled out her own, but stayed behind her boyfriend.

To their right, the hallway was transforming. The usual plain, light colored stone was shifting into a door.

Once it was over, neither moved for a moment, unsure of what exactly had just happened.

"Oh Merlin," Y/N mumbled. "It's the Room of Requirement."

"What?"

She laughed in disbelief. "The Room of Requirement! I thought it was just an urban legend. It's a room that appears when you really need something."

"So, what, the castle felt that we really needed to get laid and decided to play wingman?"

She grinned, running to the door. The moment she touched the doorknob, she turned to face her boyfriend. "Let's see!"

She pushed open the door, and it was as though they'd stepped into the Savoy.

The room was colored with whites, creams, and beiges, with a fleur-de-lis and ivy pattern covering many surfaces. In the corner was a gorgeous four poster bed that looked like it was made of clouds, with sheer curtains hanging down and ghosting over the light oak wood floor. Off to the side was an open door, leading into what looked like a bathroom that would be quite at home in a spa.

On the bed were bright white, fluffy robes with matching slippers resting atop them. Y/N, ignoring all sense, ran into the room, practically squealing with delight. The robes were as soft as they looked, and she traced her fingers over the elegant script that had her initials on it.

She turned to see Dean slowly inching his way into the room and she reached out her hand for him to take. "C'mon, this robe literally has your name on it!"

He walked over, looking suspicious until right up to the point where he made contact with his new robe. "Oh…" he grinned. "This is…"

" _Right_?" she beamed. She then threw her own robe around her shoulders, covering her plain old t-shirt and jeans and enveloping her in a soft shroud of warmth. "Oh _Merlin_ , Dean…"

He quickly mimicked her, slipping into the robe on and making a sound only pulled from him by her or a particularly good slice of pie. "This is awesome."

She laughed, before moving towards the bathroom. "Oh…" she whispered in awe, taking in the granite countertops, the gigantic bathtub and equally humongous shower. "We…we have to try all of _this_ out."

Dean's arms wrapped around her waist, fitting her perfectly into his chest. His lips came down, ghosting over the shell of her ear. "Sounds good to me."

She giggled, his breath tickling her. She turned around, grabbing the base of his skull with both hands and pulling him down into a passionate kiss.

She felt him smile against her lips as he began backing up towards the bed. When they were close enough, he plopped down on the bed, his hands trailing up from her waist to brush his thumbs under her breaths.

She smiled wolfishly and straddled his lap, bringing their lips back together. Her hands left his neck, pushing the plush robe off of his shoulders. He let go of her to slide his arms free and ripped her robe from her, letting it pool on the floor.

She pushed him back, letting him lay out as she crawled up his body to prevent the kiss from breaking. She only pulled away to allow them to each their own shirts off. She even rolled off of him to allow them both the freedom to shove their pants down onto the floor.

Dean struggled a moment with his boots, which caused her to quietly snort in laughter. He'd glared at her and, once he was free, tackled her. She squeaked under his sudden attack, but quickly changed her tune.

One hand immediately began reacquainting itself with her breast, tweaking and twisting her nipple lightly. The fingers of his other hand danced down her bare stomach, almost tickling her, before finding their quarry.

"Fuck, already?" he mumbled against her lips.

She shrugged playfully. "It's been a while, and you were so excited in the hall…"

"If I knew I had that effect on you, sweetheart…"

"You know damn well what you do to me," her hands trailed down from his broad, freckled shoulders, down his spine (taking extra care not to tickle him), to his butt, which she squeezed. "Please, Dean…"

"What happened to wanting to go slow?" his lips had begun to attend to her unoccupied breast, and his breath caused goosebumps to break over her skin wherever it hit. "Wanted to take our time?"

" _Later_ ," she whined, sounding not unlike a petulant child. "Need you now."

He removed his fingers from her dripping core (she pouted at the loss, even though she had been the one to beg for it) and began licking his fingers clean.

She groaned, grabbing fistfuls of his short hair and meeting his lips with hers. His cocky smirk returned, but she was more focused on the taste of her on his tongue.

Before she could do anything else, she felt the thick head of his cock sliding between her lower lips, coating himself in her juices. Finally, it caught on her entrance, and he pushed slowly in.

The burn was not surprising. As she'd said, it had been a while, at least a month, since last they'd had private time. Add to that that she'd convinced him to forego foreplay, and it was only to be expected.

He groaned, a breathless grunt that sounded better than any symphony she'd ever heard. One of his hands snaked around to makes its home at the base of her skull, whilst the other held him up. One of her own hands stayed on his ass, whilst the other gripped his shoulder blade tightly, looking for purchase.

He leaned down, peppering kisses along the column of her throat, giving her time to adjust. "You feel so good, baby," he mumbled. "You always take me so well."

She laughed breathlessly, kissing every freckle she could reach. "I'll have something clever to say to that after you fuck me."

"You always know just what to say," he chuckled as he pulled out. Then he slammed back in.

Out of habit, she took her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to muffle the sounds that only Dean could pull from her.

He shook his head, smirking. "No, baby, I wanna hear you. Never get to hear how good you sound."

Her only answer was another soft whine that left her involuntarily, "Dean…"

His smirk got bigger. "Am I gonna hear you?"

At that, she grinned like the Cheshire cat as she loosely twined her legs with his. "Not if you don't move."

His beautiful, plush pink lips pursed in pretend thought before he pushed back in.

She let out a sound halfway between a giggle and a moan. Dean's teeth worried at the skin of her neck, and she felt his lips pull back in what she assumed was a smile.

He continued to pound into her, angling his hips until he found that spot inside her that took her breath away. She continued to reward him with squeezes to his perfect ass and sounds that ran the spectrum from mewls to outright screams, even managing to mix in a compliment or two.

Dean, however, stuck to his usual grunts and groans and the occasional half-sentence of praise.

The hand on her neck ran down her spine and towards her stomach, the rough callous of his fingers scratching at her soft skin pleasantly, his intent obvious.

He found her clit after a few fumbled attempts, too focused on his own pleasure to find the tiny bundle of nerves immediately.

She keened, her legs moving up and around his hips. "I'm so close, Dean," she breathed into the freckles on his shoulder.

"I know, baby," he grunted. "C'mon, come for me, come on my cock."

Her orgasm washed over her, not crashing over her like a tidal wave, but more like stepping into a warm, comforting bath. Her fingers still left half moon indentations in him and he might complain later when he sat down, but she was too lost in the moment to think clearly.

Dean followed closely after her into the abyss, triggered by her walls fluttering around him, and he spilled thick ropes of his seed into her.

Her lips sought his out once more, and they kissed lazily as they came down.

His hand moved some hair from her face as he pulled away.

She smiled up at him before saying, "I love you."

"Yeah, I was good, wasn't I?"

She rolled her eyes, which made him laugh.

Dean pulled out of her to reach for his wand, lost in the pile of clothes on the floor. With a quick wave, they were both clean.

Y/N sat up, her hands out to her boyfriend.

He smiled, taking them in his and getting back onto the bed. She curled up next to him, ignoring the covers as the room was the perfect temperature.

"This is awesome," Dean said.

"We've gotta use this more often. And tell no one."

"I'm taking this secret to the grave, sweetheart."


End file.
